


Good Boy

by TheSongSmith



Series: Good Boy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, Fisting, Gentle Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Sex in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Sub Dean, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28983162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSongSmith/pseuds/TheSongSmith
Summary: There was a certain calm that spread through Dean on a hunt. Nerves could get you killed in his line of work, so he’d learned early on how to focus that energy differently, to let it sharpen his senses and relax his body as it settled over his shoulders like a blanket. It wasn’t until he started playing with Cas, though, that he’d realized there were other ways to relax.His father would probably consider him crazy if he knew that Dean’s happy place was on his knees, at the angel’s mercy. But there were a lot of worse things he could be doing, and besides, he didn’t much care what other people would think about it anymore; not when he knew the rewards that waited for him on the other side of that door. All he had to do was let himself be led through it.The first in a collection of kinky, porn-y scenes where Cas gives Dean exactly what he needs.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Good Boy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126019
Comments: 8
Kudos: 198





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! So, pretty much all the info you need to know is in the tags, make sure you read them! And if you enjoy this fic, please let me know! I have a couple more scenes plotted out, so if I get some positive responses I'll post more.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> TheSongSmith

There was a certain calm that spread through Dean on a hunt. Nerves could get you killed in his line of work, so he’d learned early on how to focus that energy differently, to let it sharpen his senses and relax his body as it settled over his shoulders like a blanket. Counter-intuitive as it may be, those were the only times he found himself relaxed, and he’d always enjoyed those moments, when he could forget everything else and his world narrowed down to the situation at hand. It wasn’t until he started playing with Cas, though, that he’d realized there were other ways to relax.

His father would probably consider him crazy if he knew that Dean’s happy place was on his knees, at the angel’s mercy. But there were a lot of worse things he could be doing, and besides, he didn’t much care what other people would think about it anymore; not when he knew the rewards that waited for him on the other side of that door. All he had to do was let himself be led through it. The first step had been the scariest, and the few after that were no picnic either, when the panic and anger he’d inherited had held him in place just as surely as the ropes currently binding his wrists behind his back. The difference, he supposed, was that the anger and fear were meant to hold him back, and the ropes were what set him free, and now he falls willingly through that door at a single word from the angel instead of dragging his feet across the carpet.

For the record, that word, always said in the same low, gravely tone tinged with fondness, is _kneel_.

He never tells Cas about the flowery, girly thoughts he has about what they do, or the ways it helps him, and they both know he never will, but he also knows he doesn't have to. After all this time he knows Cas can read it in him, in the sweat and the sounds and the sated slump of his body under Cas’ control. And that should be the scariest part, not being in control. Or at least, that’s what Dean thought the first time the angel had brought it up. Dean was always in control. He’d always had to be. Lives depended on it, and, occasionally, the fate of the world rested on his carefully set shoulders. He didn’t need softness and praise and a chance to breathe. He needed action, and walls, and control.

Or, at least, that’s what Dean had thought. What he hadn’t known, though, is that he was a drowning man, choking on his own denial, a prisoner in a cell of his own creation. He didn’t realize it until that sneaky son of a bitch used his bravado against him.

_Is the big, bad Dean Winchester scared?_

And thank fuck for that feathery bastard.

He still wasn’t entirely sure how it happened. He’d had every intention of getting through that first time to prove he could, and then giving the angel a swift middle finger at the end, for questioning his bravery. Instead, the moment he hit his knees, he was lost. Cas had somehow found a roadmap to a place in Dean’s mind that even he hadn’t known existed, and had led him there like an expert. Everything he loved about his hunter’s mindset could be found there too: the calm, the way the world narrowed and sharpened, and the way his body relaxed into a familiar routine...and here he could have that, without the life-threatening danger, and usually followed by a mind-numbing orgasm, which was a definite bonus. He’d only caught a glimpse of it that first time, but he knew he couldn’t let it go after that. And at the end he hadn’t even been able to string together a coherent sentence, much less gather his pieces enough to flip off that smug asshole. He never told the angel, but sometimes he laughs to himself about how he’s probably been meant for this role all along. His entire life he’d been trained into a perfect little soldier, made to obey orders. Of course, it wasn’t until Cas that he was given orders he actually wanted to follow. Turns out, when he wants the rewards, Dean can be very, _very_ good.

Cas, for his part, is more than happy to find new and interesting ways to put him on his knees, and the kinky fucker could get pretty creative. The fact that he could poof up whatever crazy bullshit crossed his mind doesn’t seem entirely fair to Dean, but he also wasn’t going to complain, since just about everything the angel had come up with so far had been awesome. Besides, he knows the angel wouldn’t hurt him, not really. In fact, he was downright fanatical about Dean’s wellbeing sometimes. But Dean had learned quickly that the faster he bit back his pride and just gave in to Cas’ ideas, the sooner they could get to the mind-blowing sex portion of the evening. It isn’t like Cas is going to judge him for not putting up enough of a fight to be believable, and honestly, Dean gets tired of putting up the front. So with Cas he just doesn’t, and they’re both happier for it. And sometimes, when Cas is really pleased with him, he’ll say Dean’s favorite words.

“Good boy, Dean.”

Now, he’s in his usual spot on the floor, soft black rope binding his wrists together at the base of his spine, currently the only adornment on his otherwise naked body. Back straight, knees apart, chin up, the way Cas taught him. A few years ago he would have been mortified, unable to reach the angel’s eyes as his cock twitched against his stomach, proud and hard despite the fact he hadn’t even been touched yet. These days, though, he can’t really bring himself to be ashamed, and Cas likes looking him in the eye. He can already feel his muscles starting to relax as he waits to see what nonsense the angel will come up with this time. Whatever it is, he’s sure it’ll be fun.

Cas is considering him from the chair in front of him, close enough that Dean is just about between his knees, and the angel smiles fondly as he takes in his calm expression, absently running a hand through Dean’s hair. “There are so many things I could do with you today,” he muses. “I haven’t quite settled on one. Any requests?”

Dean hums, leaning into the hand in his hair and staring down at Cas’ lap, grinning at the bulge already present there. He would’ve felt guilty for enjoying this as much as he did if it wasn’t for how obviously Cas enjoyed it as well. “I suppose that depends,” he answers, biting his lip. “Is that an angel blade in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

The angel snorts, smirking and lowering his zipper, pulling his cock out and giving it a slow stroke. “Happy to see you. The blade is in my coat.” Dean groans, his mouth already watering, and he leans forward only to be shoved back onto his heels. “Now now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You know the rules. If you want something, you have to ask.”

That’s one of Dean’s least favorite rules, and one of the few things that still makes him squirm in place. But by now he knows how strong the angel’s convictions are about this particular rule, and he knows if he can’t ask, he won’t get what he wants. He can’t quite manage to lift his eyes from Cas’ lap when he mumbles out his request, and the hand in his hair skims down to stroke his cheek for a moment. “Getting there,” the angel murmurs, encouraging. “Now I want you to look at me and try again. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

It takes more effort than he’d like to admit to meet his eyes, but there’s no judgement there, and there never is. “Can I please suck your cock, Castiel?”

The full name is as close to an honorific as Dean is comfortable with. He’d wanted one, needed to separate this part of their relationship from the part they could show in front of Sam, but _Sir_ just feels twisted and bitter in his mouth, and the other options are too embarrassing still. The angel doesn’t mind. _I don’t need a title for you to know where you belong, do I?_

_No Castiel._

“Very good boy,” Cas is murmuring now, eyes proud and fond as the hand in his hair returns, slowly guiding him further into Cas’ lap. Dean knows better than to take what he wants when he hasn’t been given permission, but the warmth and the scent of his angel are soothing anyway. “I know that’s hard for you, you did very well. You may.”

It’s a little harder to steady himself with his hands still tied, but it’s no less enjoyable, and he smirks to himself at the small gasp he pulls from the angel’s throat as he swallows around him. After a few minutes the hand in his hair travels to the back of his head, another coming up to his jaw, stopping his movement, and Cas smirks down at him as he gives a short thrust into Dean’s mouth, testing. And _fuck yes_ , that’s exactly what he wants, so Dean closes his eyes and relaxes his throat. They open a moment later at the sharp tap against his cheek. “Don’t go drifting away from me just yet, pretty boy. There will be plenty of time for that later,” the angel smirks, and Dean isn’t sure if that’s a threat or a promise, but he sure as hell wants to find out. “I want you to look at me while I fuck that pretty mouth of yours. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good boy?”

Dean hums an affirmation, blushing under the warmth of Cas’ gaze as the angel starts to make slow, lazy thrusts into his mouth. It might have been embarrassing with someone else, but the way Cas looks at him, like he’s precious and important, like Dean is everything he could ever want, makes a little spark of pride flair up in the human’s chest. He’s _good_ here, on his knees. He’s cherished and cared for, and his only responsibility is to do what Cas asks. It’s intoxicating, in the best possible way. The hand in his hair is moving again, scratching and petting, and the one at his cheek slips down to his throat. He doesn’t press down (and Dean knows that he won’t, that Cas would never violate his limits like that), just strokes lightly. It occurs to him, as the angel thrusts deeper, that he can probably feel his own cock as it pushes into Dean’s throat, and the human briefly entertains the idea that he could come from that knowledge alone, because fuck is that hot. “My gorgeous boy,” the angel is murmuring, watching him fondly. “That’s right where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees at my feet, a nice big cock in your mouth...” Dean moans in agreement, swallowing around him again. He isn’t sure where Cas learned to dirty talk, but he’s pretty sure the guy’s got a PhD in it. He swallows around Cas’s cock again and the angel shudders before pulling out. “Perfect,” he breathes. “Good boy.” He pauses, taking in the sight of the human in his lap for a moment. “What’s your safeword, Dean?” Dean is halfway through an eye roll when the hand at his jaw tightens. “Try again, without the attitude this time, or you won’t be coming today.”

Dean swallows hard at that, remembering the many times Cas has delivered on that threat. “Sorry Castiel. It’s impala.”

“Much better. Who do you belong to, Dean?”

It’s a familiar question, but it still kicks up something warm in his gut. “You, Castiel.”

“That’s right, you’re my perfect boy. You’d let me do anything I want to you, wouldn’t you?” Dean purrs in agreement, nuzzling against him happily, and the angel chuckles. “Why do you let me?”

Dean hums, grinning. “‘Cause it feels fucking awesome?”

Cas laughs, tugging him into a possessive kiss. “That’s true, you like how it feels to be my good boy, don’t you? To make me proud.” The hunter blushes, but nods anyway. Some small part of him feels like he should be embarrassed about how much he enjoys the praise, but Cas certainly isn’t going to mock him for it, and there’s no one else around when they do this, so Dean doesn’t see the harm in indulging himself a little bit. Besides, the angel wants an answer, and good boys usually get to come their brains out when Cas is done playing.

“Fuck yeah,” he hums, nuzzling closer. Cas smiles, kissing his head before guiding him back onto his heels.

“I like it too. So then, let’s see how we can take you apart today.” Dean isn’t really surprised when the angel walks behind him, pushing his head down to the carpet. Cas seems to have a fascination with Dean’s ass. He isn’t really sure if it’s all the different things Cas can do to it, or if it’s more that it’s a part of him that only the angel gets to have, but he doesn’t complain either way, and the strain never leaves him with anything more than slight soreness, though he’s sure Cas is using his mojo somehow to keep him on his knees for hours without hurting him. Today, though, the angel's hand goes first to his cock, and Dean whines as he feels the ring settle tightly around the base. It’s going to be a long day, then.

“Control freak,” Dean mutters half-heartedly under his breath.

He yelps at the sharp slap that comes down on his ass. “I didn’t quite catch that. What did you say?”

“N-Nothing Castiel!” Dean answers quickly.

The angel laughs, kissing the base of his spine lightly. “That’s what I thought. But we might as well even it out now.” The hand comes down again on the other side, and fuck, Cas isn’t messing around today, though the hit only makes his cock twitch harder.

“Th-Thank you Castiel...”

“My pleasure.” He can hear the smirk in it, but can’t bring himself to care as the angel’s hands run smoothly over him, spreading him wider. He jolts away at the warm, wet feeling around his hole, though the fingers at his hips hold him steadily in place. “Dean? Talk to me.”

“I-I...what are you doing?” He manages after a moment.

Cas pauses, looking him over. He knows what’s wrong, that sometimes the voices in Dean’s head that tell him he doesn’t deserve pleasure try to worm their way in and take this from him. Luckily, Cas also knows how to stop them. “I’m using you the way that I want. You are mine to use however I see fit, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t like reducing it to that, but he knows it’s what Dean needs to hear to settle himself again. And the hunter is already nodding along. “Y-Yours...”

“Do you have a problem with me using you for my own entertainment?”

The tense line of Dean’s shoulders eases, and he shakes his head. The voice is wrong, he can’t be selfish and undeserving when this isn’t for him. Cas is the one calling the shots here, and it isn’t Dean’s place to tell him what to do. He’s allowed to feel good when he’s being a good boy for Cas. “No Castiel...all yours...”

“That’s right,” the angel murmurs, squeezing his hips tighter for a moment. “You’re mine, and I want to play with that pretty hole of yours. And you’re going to be a very good boy, and you’re going to relax and let me do what I want, and let all those pretty sounds out so I can hear them.”

It’s less of an order and more of a reassurance, but the tone works. Dean relaxes under him again, and the “Yes Castiel,” that answers is much calmer. Dean gasps when the angel leans in, dragging his tongue over his entrance, but doesn’t pull away again, only shudders and sinks deeper into the carpet. “F-Fuck...”

Cas purrs, spreading him wider and happily licking him open. Dean mewls and curses when the angel’s tongue presses into him, rocking his hips back slightly. “That’s my good boy,” Cas praises, slowly pressing a finger into him and chuckling at his low moan. “Feels so good to give yourself up to me, doesn’t it? To let go and just feel...” Dean lets out some sort of garbled agreement, and Cas knows that he’s already started to drift, his body going soft and pliant under the angel’s hands. It always amazes the angel a little bit, how easily the human submits to him these days. It was a long road for the both of them, but it had been well worth the effort to witness the beautiful creature that emerged when Dean gave up his heavily guarded control. He trusted the angel, that much Cas was certain of, maybe more than he’d ever trusted anyone. Cas hums, landing a soft kiss on Dean’s left ass cheek as he presses a second finger into his willing body. “Think I want to open you up nice and slow today,” he decides. “You know how much I love the way your body takes me. How many fingers do you think you can take, Dean? Four, five? Maybe my whole hand?”

The green-eyed man shudders at the idea, groaning and spreading his knees wider. “I suppose we’ll find out,” the angel purrs.

Cas is excruciatingly slow and methodical, and by the time he has four fingers sliding into him Dean is a shivering, desperate mess, lube dripping down his thighs, and fuck does he want to come. He mentally curses the small rubber ring wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, keeping him from release, and the angel behind him snorts. “I can hear you shouting in your head. I don’t think the cockring is offended.”

“Please, Castiel,” Dean manages, too overwhelmed to care about begging. “N-Need to come...”

Cas hums thoughtfully, landing a hard smack on the perfect globe of the human’s ass, causing him to clench around his fingers and sending another wave of pleasure through the already desperate hunter. “You will come when and how I decide to let you,” the angel reminds him. “And I’m not sure you’ve earned it quite yet. But I’ll make you a deal. If you can be good for me and take my whole hand, then I’ll let you come.”

Dean whimpers, already feeling ready to burst, but he knows Cas would never hurt him; at least, not in any way he didn’t like. “Yes Castiel.”

“Good boy,” Cas praises, starting to push and twist his hand, gently urging Dean’s body to yield to him. “Take deep breaths, try to relax.” Dean is far too gone to do anything but obey, and soft little whimpers escape him as the angel works. The human yelps as, with one final twist, Cas’ knuckles pass through his stretched rim, burying him to the wrist in Dean’s body. Even Cas gasps, and Dean can just make out the harsh, uneven rhythm of the angel’s breaths over his own. They both still for a moment, the intoxicating rush of control shooting up Cas’ borrowed spine, curling, hot and seductive, in his belly. “Fuck, that’s pretty,” he breathes finally, pressing heated kisses over Dean’s hips and ass as the human trembles. “Feel that, sweetheart? You’re such a good boy.” Dean moans, both at the praise and the sensation as Cas slowly starts to move. “You’ve done so well for me,” Cas hums, his free hand coming up to remove the cockring. “I want you to fuck yourself on my hand until you come.”

Dean moans, giddy from the release of pressure and the permission. If Cas deems him worthy of a reward, he certainly isn’t going to argue. Still, it takes him a moment to get his bearings enough to move, rocking back slowly as he tests out this new sensation. “O-Oh fuck...”

There’s a low groan from behind him, and the distinct sound of Cas’ zipper being opened. “That’s it sweetheart, feels so good to be filled up like that, doesn’t it?”

“Y-Yes Castiel,” he manages, rolling his hips just right to get Cas’ fist to rub over his sweet spot. “F-Fuck, l-love being yours...”

Cas groans softly, and Dean can tell from the sounds that he's stroking himself as he watches, which only makes the human rock back harder, his orgasm building quickly. “All mine,” the angel purrs. “So beautiful when you let yourself go for me. Come, Dean.”

Dean isn’t sure if it’s the order, or the way Cas’ hand suddenly presses down hard over his prostate, but whatever it is, it works immediately. He screams as he comes hard, painting the floor below him. His eyes roll back as the waves overtake him, and he only barely registers Cas pulling his hand free, or the sloppy, wet sounds when Cas’ cock slams into him. The angel fucks him hard, muttering in Enochian as his fingers bruise the human’s hips, but Dean is far away, the distant sensations only keying up the high he’s riding. He manages a soft moan at the feeling of Cas’ release, deep inside him, little sparks of pleasure spreading through his system when the angel bites down on the back of his shoulder. Yes, this is exactly where he belongs.

He isn’t quite sure how long they stay that way, but eventually he becomes aware that Cas has moved, using his grace to clean up the sweat and lube coating his skin, but leaving the mess inside him, knowing the human found the instant clean-up too jarring in his current state. Now the angel is carefully releasing his arms, murmuring soothingly as he rubs out the tension in Dean’s shoulders. Dean sighs happily, letting the contact ground him as he floats. When he finally starts to come down, he finds himself in bed, straddling Cas’ lap and leaning heavily into his chest. The angel is humming to himself, stroking Dean’s back as he presses soft kisses and words of praise into his hairline. Dean manages a quiet grunt, and the angel chuckles. “Welcome back, sweetheart. Drink.” He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that there’s a glass of water being held to his lips, and he swallows eagerly. “Good boy,” Cas murmurs when he finishes. “How do you feel?”

It takes a moment for Dean to assess, his connection to his body still a little shaky. “Awesome,” he decides. “And exhausted. Though it, uh...it’s a little weird...feels kinda...empty,” he admits sheepishly, feeling his face flame. Cas hums thoughtfully, considering him for a moment before gently lifting his hips a few inches. He doesn’t give the human enough time to ask what he’s doing before he lowers him again, straight onto his cock, which is once again hard as a rock and slides in easily through the mess of lube and cum inside him. Dean gasps sharply, his hold around Cas’ neck tightening. “A-Ah, fuck, I c-can’t...t-too sensitive...”

The angel just chuckles, claiming his mouth in a kiss that makes Dean’s head spin. “I won’t move,” he promises. “Just trying to solve your problem. Besides,” he murmurs close to Dean’s ear, “I think I’d like to feel you tighten up around me.”

Dean whimpers as his dick twitches in a valiant effort to get it up again, but only one of them has a magical lack of refractory period (no matter how many times Dean asks Cas to mojo his own away), and his eyelids are already starting to droop as the exhaustion overcomes him. “Insatiable,” he mutters as he presses his face up against Cas’ neck.

“That’s why you love me,” Cas teases lightly, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. The angel holds him close, and Dean melts into him, basking in the soft attention he can never bring himself to ask for. Cas’ cock is a heavy heat inside him, and though Dean will never admit it out loud, it’s comforting to be surrounded by the angel so completely. There was something intimate about giving the angel access to his body this way, not just in the heat of passion, but in these quiet moments too, the ones he never thought he’d let anyone in on. “Get some rest, Dean,” Cas hums, and then, in the moment before sleep pulls him under, “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> *fans self* whew...if you liked the fic, feel free to drop me a review below, I love to read all your responses. You can also find me @TheSongSmithSPN on twitter, and @TheSongSmithTumbles on tumblr.
> 
> Love,  
> TheSongSmith


End file.
